Black and Blue
by GiraffeGirl
Summary: Callie Taylor arrives on Ramsay Street with a secret, a history and plenty of baggage. Set just after the plane crash. Rated M for a storyline revealed later in the fic.... oooooo the excitement lol. Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

Callie Taylor stepped out the cab, dumping her small holdall on the pavement next to her suitcase. She felt in her jeans pocket for some cash.

"There you go, keep the change," she said, handing a twenty-dollar bill over to the driver and flashing him a smile.

"Thanks." The driver, a middle-aged stout man returned the smile. He carefully turned his vehicle around and drove out of the quiet suburban close.

Callie stepped onto the pavement and surveyed her new surroundings. It was so hot; she'd never expected this intense heat. She regretted her outfit choice now, but she'd made such grand plans when she'd packed to come on this trip that she felt to change things now would be to jinx things. Her jeans felt too tight and were rubbing, even if they did show off her long legs and skinny hips. Her top was thinner and more suitable for the weather, but showed off her rapidly fading tan that she'd gained from her holiday in Spain almost two months ago. Only her flip-flops seemed appropriate for the Australian summer.

The street was very quiet. Obviously even the locals found the heat oppressive and were sensibly staying indoors. Not like stupid Poms. Callie felt around in her holdall for the scrap of paper she'd scribbled the address she had to go to down on. 24 Ramsay Street. She looked around. The houses were set back off the road, and the gardens were full of lush vegetation. She wasn't exactly sure how these Australian houses worked; where were the numbers? She could hardly go rooting around people's gardens, checking door numbers. They'd think she was crazy. She crumpled the paper back up and shoved it in her back pocket, before hoisting her holdall onto her shoulder and moving towards the nearest house.

It was a large house from what she could see behind the trees. The garden was nice with a rockery and a variety of plants. He step-father, Gary, would be highly impressed; he was very into his gardening. Callie looked around for signs of habitation. A vintage looking car sat on the pavement outside it. She was useless with cars and wouldn't know the difference between a Mini and a Porsche.

Aha! A post box. Callie found the wooden box among a sea of plants and located the number. Twenty-four. Perfect. On seeing the numbers, she felt a strange fluttering in her stomach. This was really it; she was here. After the twenty-four hour flight from England, and the long coach journey out to the suburbs from Melbourne, not to mention staying in that grotty bed and breakfast last night, she'd finally made it to her destination. She looked up at the house with new eyes; she was standing only moments away from finding her family, the family she'd barely even thought about until a few months ago.

Taking a deep breath, Callie tossed her long treacle coloured hair back off her face, pursed her lips determinedly and flip-flopped her way up the steep drive. She negotiated the flight of stairs up to the front door well, used to it from work. The balcony outside gave her a stunning view across the road, and into next door's garden. She could imagine people would spend hours noseying into people's business around here.

She knocked on the door, making sure her shoulders were back and her chin up. Presentation was everything and she knew first impressions counted. Maybe she should have put on some real shoes…

The door opened and a man appeared. He looked about forty, she guessed, probably a little younger than her step-dad. He had a kind looking face, and dark hair that was turning grey almost in front of her eyes. Dressed in a check shirt and jeans, he looked the epitome of everything Callie had ever expected an Australian man to be.

There was silence as he looked her up and down, obviously waiting for her to say something. Callie, usually so unflustered, found herself stammering over her words. "Um, hi," she said awkwardly, giving him a weak version of her trademark smile. "I'm… is… does David Bishop live here?" The man's face looked shocked and Callie mistook it for ignorance. "I might have the wrong house!" she added hurriedly, preparing to leave. "It's no big deal, I must have the wrong address or something, I'll leave you to it, I'm really sorry to disturb you."

"No!" The man finally found his voice. He still looked horrified. "No, don't go…"

"Callie," Callie supplied her name. "Callie Taylor."

"Don't go." The man shook his head and gestured inside. "Come in, I… You better come in and sit down."

Callie followed him into the deliciously cool living room. She looked around. It was a nice place; it looked like it had been newly decorated. There was something cooking in the oven that smelt delicious.

"Sit down, can I get you anything?" The man still looked flustered and was awkwardly moving around.

"No, I'm fine thanks." Callie shook her head, her earrings jangling. "Sorry, are you David?"

"Me?" the man squeaked. "No! No, I'm his brother in-law, sort of, Joe, Joe Mangel." He offered his hand, and then shook his head. "It's not important."

"Oh, it is!" Callie nodded eagerly, taking his hand. "But I have got the right house?"

"Sort of." Joe nodded, but he still looked uncomfortable. "Look, why don't you sit down, and I'll make some tea? In fact, I'll ask my daughter to do it. Sky!" He called through a door leading out of the living room. He hesitated before moving into the kitchen area.

Callie lingered in the living room. A collection of photographs caught her eye and she moved nearer to take a closer look. One was of two girls, about seventeen or eighteen she supposed, one blonde, one with wild chestnut curls. They were both smiling widely, and looked pretty close. Another was of the second girl, with a woman who could only have been her mother with that hair and smile, and a man. Callie looked at the man more intently. He looked about the right age, she supposed, and his eyes…

"Dad, what's up?" Callie dropped the photo with a clatter, the glass smashing as it hit the tiled floor. The blonde girl from the photo looked across at the noise.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, shooting across the room and dropping to the floor. "Oh God, Dad, it's ruined!"

"Sky, be careful!" Joe warned her, coming back into the living area. "You'll cut yourself."

"But look, Dad!" Sky picked the photo up. It was slightly wrinkled in one corner where it had bounced when it had hit the floor. She looked at it with far more upset than Callie deemed strictly necessary. "It's all crinkled up," she said. She looked at Callie. "Who are you?"

"Sky, fair go," Joe said uneasily, as his daughter advanced towards the newcomer. "You can't just ask people that. Her name's Callie, she was looking for David."

Sky turned to face Callie in amazement, her unusually brown eyes creased up in disbelief. "You what?" she asked, virtually spitting the words out. She looked Callie up and down. "What did you want to see David for?"

Callie stepped backwards, feeling unwelcome for the first time since coming to this house. This Sky was certainly very hostile. "Um, I'd really rather discuss it with him first, if you don't mind. Is he not in?" Now she thought about it, maybe coming at two o'clock in the afternoon hadn't been the best idea. He was probably at work or something, but she couldn't wait any longer.

Joe looked about to speak, when Sky jumped in. "No, he's not. Is this some sort of sick joke or something?"

Callie frowned, utterly mystified as to why this girl was being so rude. There was absolutely no need for her to be so aggressive, and she was younger than her after all. Two could play at that game, and she wasn't exactly known for being a shrinking violet back home.

"No, it's not." Callie drew herself up to her full height of six foot, fixing the other girl with a challenging stare. "All I want to know is does David Bishop live here, and is he in? I just need to speak to him."

"Sky," Joe warned her, but his daughter was seemingly untameable.

"No, he's not in," Sky retorted.

"Okay, can you tell me when he'll be back then?" Callie asked, determined not to let it go now she'd come so far.

"He won't be back," Sky replied. "Never."

"What?" Callie was confused. "What do you mean? You said he lived here," she looked at Joe for an answer. He'd looked like an honest man, she hadn't expected him to lie to her like that.

"He does." Joe shrugged as Sky turned round to look at him angrily. "Sort of."

"No, he doesn't, Dad!" Sky lashed out at him. "Not any more!" She turned back round to look at Callie again. "David doesn't live here anymore, because he's dead, okay?"

Callie's stomach fluttered again and she felt the strange urge to laugh. Her knees trembled even though she was usually so infallible. She blinked several times, before answering her. "You're joking." A statement not a question.

Sky's jaw dropped and she gave a snort of laughter, not a funny laugh, but an incredulous bitter laugh. "You think I'd joke about that? Get out! Whatever reason you've got to see him, get out."

"You don't understand," Callie said, her voice wavering and hesitant. "I need to see him."

"Well you can't!" Sky pointed out the obvious.

"No, I…" Callie felt her legs starting to give way and she sat down on the sofa heavily. She took some deep breaths, practising the relaxing exercises that her mother had shown her from yoga.

Sky grew impatient with her. "What do you want here? We've told you he's dead, what more do you want?"

"Why did you want to see David?" Joe asked, in a kinder calmer tone.

Callie looked up at them both, her blue eyes clouding over with tears. "He… he's my biological father. I came all this way to see him," she said in a soft husky voice.


	2. Chapter 2

Sky shook her head emphatically, even as Callie stirred the cup of sweet tea she'd given her. "No way, no way would Uncle David lie about something like this. He never even mentioned you, did he, Dad?"

Joe shook his head. "Are you sure, Callie?"

"Certain." Callie nodded, still feeling slightly shaky. "Mum's got the birth certificate and everything, he is my dad." She winced at the mistake. "Or was."

Sky was still suspicious. "It must be some other David Bishop. Not this one."

"Mum told me all about him, I looked him up on the internet," Callie insisted. "He is the right one."

"But he'd never cheat on Lil," Sky replied.

"It was before he got married. Him and my mum knew each other from school. He… he never knew about me, Mum moved away and didn't see any point in telling him. They…" She stopped abruptly, swallowing a lump in her throat. "I'm sorry, I should have called ahead, I should have found out about this."

Sky found herself relenting slightly to this stranger. It wasn't exactly her fault that she'd stumbled in upon this.

Callie tried to think of something rational to say. "How did it happen?"

"A plane crash," Joe explained. "They don't know exactly what happened yet."

"God." Callie bit her lip anxiously, then stopped as she remembered how that always marked her lip. She hesitated before adding, "His wife? And… daughter?"

"They died too." Joe nodded.

Callie felt the world shift again, and she tried to find something to focus on. So much had changed in the last half hour since she'd got out of the taxi. From expecting to find one family member, she'd somehow lost two… another daughter… a sister she'd never even known… and never would now. Part of her wanted to faint, and part of her wanted to be sick. She sipped the tea, thankful for something concrete to do.

The front door opened. They all jumped, and Sky and Joe exchanged anxious looks. Callie glanced round to see an elderly portly man come in, carrying some bags.

"Hello," he greeted them all with a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. He regarded her with interest. "Oh, who's this?"

Joe got up from where he was sitting. "Harry, here, sit down." He offered his seat to the other man. "This is Callie, Callie Taylor. From England, right?"

"Yeah." Callie nodded, and looked into the man's eyes. Those same eyes again.

Oh. The man nodded. "I'm Harold Bishop, Sky's granddad. You two must know each other from…?" He looked at Sky.

Sky looked at Callie and then turned back to her granddad. "She actually came to see David, Granddad," she said gently. Callie could instantly see pain wash across Harold's face. She wished she'd never come; it wasn't supposed to be this way.

Harold looked at her again. "Oh… I assume you've filled her in…"

"Yes, Granddad." Sky nodded. "But it's actually what Callie has to say that's important, she…" Sky hesitated. Callie knew she wished someone would interrupt her. Well, Callie was the elder of the two girls.

"David and my mum used to date, years ago," Callie informed him, wishing she had inherited her mother's ability to break news gently and tactfully. "He… I… I'm his daughter," she blurted out eventually, before snapping her mouth shut.

Harold looked at the three of them in shocked silence. He opened his mouth several times but didn't say anything.

"You…" he said finally, looking directly at her. "But… you…"

Callie knew she had to get out of there immediately. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come," she said, standing up. Her legs would barely hold her, but she forced them to carry her back across the room. She grabbed her holdall and suitcase. "I should go, I'm really sorry about your son, Mr. Bishop, and I'm sorry for turning up like this. I'll leave you to it."

"No, Callie, wait!" Sky called after her, but Callie had already slammed the door shut behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

Callie walked until her feet burned in her flip-flops. She should have known walking long distances in new shoes was a stupid idea, especially shoes that had only cost her five pounds off a market stall back at home. Oh how the mighty fall, she thought miserably; if only the thousands of people who read those glossy magazines could see her now.

She'd reached a small complex of shops and businesses. She looked around. There was a doctor's surgery and a lawyer's office. She'd walked past a pretty exclusive looking hotel. A café named The General Store faced her. She read the outside. _Bishop and Carpenter_… that had to be a coincidence. She decided not to take the risk of upsetting any more of the Bishop family today. So that left the Scarlet Bar, a rather modern looking establishment. She hoped she wouldn't be too underdressed to be served there.

She walked in, and was pleased to see it was busy. She hated walking into deserted pubs and restaurants; it always made her feel like she was on show so much more. She headed up to the bar. A man and woman were standing behind it, arguing playfully.

"No child of mine is being called Carlos," the man said determinedly. He was pretty young looking, but Callie couldn't put an exact age on him. The woman was definitely younger, with blonde hair and a lively face. She was just showing the first signs of a bump.

"Why not?" she asked, grinning. "I think it's sweet."

"Steph, no!" the man said firmly. He turned to Callie. "Sorry, what can I get you?"

"Um…" Callie scanned the cocktail menu out of habit, and then put it down. "Just a glass of water please."

"Still or sparkling?" the man asked.

"Oh, still," Callie replied.

The man handed her the glass and took her money. Callie looked around, wondering if there was a quiet corner she could sit down in on her own and ignore the world. That was the downside of busy bars: there was never anywhere to sit. Still, standing and propping up the bar was what she was known for back home, so why not here? She leaned against the bar to take the weight of her painful feet and sipped her glass of water.

So today had been a disaster then. Never mind, she could enjoy a few more days in the sun, top up her tan and then head home again. She hadn't lost anything; it wasn't like she'd ever known David Bishop. How could you miss someone you'd never known? She still had her mum and step-dad back home, she could go home to them and then sort herself out back there. This was just a minor blip on the radar. There was no reason to feel like the world was coming to an end. Callie thought everything through logically, recovering some of her natural composure. The first thing she had to do was find somewhere to stay tonight; that scummy B&B was not getting any more of her custom. She wondered what the hotel next door was like, but she doubted her dwindling bank account could stretch to it. She turned round to the barman.

"Sorry, I don't suppose you know of any cheap hotels around here, do you?" she asked.

The man frowned and glanced at his wife. "Um, not that I know of. Steph?"

"Well, there's always Lassiters," Steph said thoughtfully. "The hotel next door? But that doesn't really come into the realms of cheap."

"I was thinking a bit more affordable than that to be honest," Callie agreed, smiling ruefully. "I stayed in a pretty rough B&B last night, and I'd really rather not try it again."

"There's a few around here," the man said thoughtfully. "I've got the names of a few in the office, if you want to have a look? I'll just go and get them for you."

"That would be great."

"Do you want another drink while you're waiting?" Steph asked, holding a hand out for her empty glass.

Callie glanced down. "Um, no better not. I'm not that flush at the moment."

"You came on holiday without any money?" Steph looked surprised and curious.

Callie frowned. "How do you know I'm on holiday?"

"I guessed you weren't local from your accent," Steph teased. "Am I right?"

Callie shrugged. "Sort of, I guess." She was on holiday now, she supposed.

The man returned with a list of names and numbers. "Mention you got them off Max Hoyland and you might even get a discount," he said.

"He wishes!" Steph laughed. "You're not that famous yet, Max."

Callie smiled. "Thanks. I better get going, get ringing round these places. Where's the nearest pay phone?"

"You can use the phone here if you like," Steph offered instantly. She looked at Max. "Can't she?"

Max nodded. "Um, yeah I guess. It's just there." He pointed to the phone on the wall.

"Great." Callie smiled again. "I just hope it's not too short notice."

* * *

Three phone calls later she'd booked herself a room for the night. She replaced the receiver thankfully. She'd always hated calling strangers up for any reason. At least that had been relatively painless.

"You all sorted then?" Steph asked, as she pulled a pint for a man waiting at the bar.

"Yeah, thanks." Callie nodded, moving round to the other side of the bar again. "Look, I feel like I ought to give you something towards the phone bill…"

"Forget it." Steph shook her head. "Max is always making personal calls on it, he won't even notice the difference. Tell her, Stu."

The man at the bar took his pint and looked at Callie. He was tall, taller than Callie, with blonde hair and a deep and enviable tan. He looked pretty fit too and had mischievous brown eyes. Callie couldn't help liking him.

"Yeah, Max is forever ringing up dodgy chatlines that charge premium rate," he agreed, grinning at Steph.

"Oh, shut up!" Steph smacked his arm. "Honestly, don't worry about it. Now, you're sure you don't want another drink?"

Callie shook her head. "No, it's fine, I should get going."

"Stuart's buying." Steph grinned.

Stuart sighed. "I guess. What are you having?"

"Just water then," Callie agreed reluctantly, putting her holdall back down.

"You rebel you!" Stuart teased. He offered her his hand. "Stuart Parker."

"Callie Taylor," Callie replied. He had a firm grip, a real man's man. She sat down on one of the bar stools, having to stretch even at her height.

"So you're backpacking then?" Stuart eyed up her rather hefty and expensive looking suitcase. "That's a lot of stuff for backpacking."

"No, it's not like that." Callie shook her head, taking the glass of water off of Steph. "I… I'm sort of visiting family, I guess, and anyway, I never travel light." Just the thought of being separated from her beloved collection of vintage and designer clothes and her essential hair straighteners made her shudder. They were pretty much all she had left to hold onto.

"Oh right." Stuart nodded. "They live locally then?"

Callie thought long and hard about her response. Finally, she shook her head. "Not that locally, no, I'm just passing through really." Lying still came so naturally to her that it was a bit worrying; she'd vowed she'd turn over a new leaf as soon as she left England. But something felt wrong about telling these virtual strangers all about the Bishops' business; for all she knew, they might know each other.

"What family is it you're visiting?" Stuart continued asking questions. Callie recognised the signs. The only time men ever paid any attention to what she said was when they were trying to get her attention. The rest of the time it was all about her body and her fame.

"Just family."

"It's a long way for you to have come for 'just family'," Stuart remarked. "You are from England, right?"

"Yeah, London." She really didn't want to get into all this now; the next question was inevitably "so what do you do?" and she didn't want to answer that. She had no idea what she did anymore, and she definitely couldn't mention her last career. Even though her fame had never quite spread to Australia, there was a chance that someone could have found out about her. She just really didn't need the hassle right now. She glanced at her watch. "Anyway, I better get going if I'm to get to this B&B while it's still light. It was nice meeting you, thanks for the drink."

"Well if you're ever in the area again…" Stuart offered, leaving the invitation unsaid.

"Sure." Callie flashed him a smile, hoping he might be satisfied with that. She turned round to leave the bar and almost crashed straight into…

"Mr Bishop," she breathed out.

"Um, Harold, please," he said, looking as flustered as she felt. He struggled to find the right words. "I… um… we… that is… Sky suggested perhaps… would you like to join us for dinner?"

Callie was surprised. She'd expected to be told to get packing. It felt strange to actually be invited somewhere, and be actually wanted. "Um, sure." She nodded, then realised she needed to sound more positive. "I mean, of course, I'd really like to."

Harold seemed genuinely pleased at her response. He smiled. "Oh good. Well, um, shall we say seven o'clock then?"

Callie nodded and he turned to go. It was only then she realised that he had actually come looking for her, had actively gone out of his way to find her. She turned back to the bar. Steph and Stuart were looking at her with a new-found interest.

"You know Harold?" Steph asked.

Callie shrugged. "Sort of." What right did they have to know anything about her private life? "I should get going then, I need a shower and stuff before dinner."

Stuart suddenly stepped forward. "You're not going all the way to a B and B are you?"

"Where else am I going to go?"

"Well, it seems silly for you to head out of town and then back in again," Stuart continued. "I mean, when you could get showered and changed so much closer to the Bishops' house…"

"I think Stuart's trying to say you can get changed at his house," Steph interpreted. "He lives right across the street from them. So do I, but I can't really leave this place…"

Callie eyed Stuart up anxiously. He looked friendly enough, but God knew her judgements of people had been seriously off in the last few years. He could turn out to be a crazed axe-murderer or…

"I'm a cop." Stuart reached into his pocket and drew his ID card out. He smiled. "So I'll try not to kill you and bury you under the patio or something. We don't have a patio, actually…"

Callie forced herself to smile back. It was like he'd known she doubted him, like he could read her thoughts. Was she that transparent?

"Honestly, if you want to use my place, you're more than welcome." Stuart finished his beer and stood up. "If you don't…"

"No, it's fine." Callie forced herself to nod. "That would be really nice of you." She finished her water and then stood up too. "After you then."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: So far this might all seem a bit un fan-fictiony, but I'm hoping it'll become a bit more so later as Callie settles in more! Let me know if you think it's not fan-fictiony enough!

* * *

Shutting the bathroom door firmly behind her, Callie shoved her huge suitcase up against it. No lock; typical bloke's house. She felt slightly uneasy about not having the door locked, but she was fairly sure that no one would be able to move the weight of her suitcase.

She let out a deep sigh that she'd been holding back for hours now, ever since she'd got out the taxi. Callie wished she could let go more, but she'd spent three years being so aware of everyone watching her every move, making her _career_ out of being poised and perfect at all hours of the day and night; you couldn't change habits like that over night. She'd been conditioned to be unemotional, a blank canvas.

Blank canvas was the right word, she thought, grimacing at the sight in front of her in the mirror. Her hair, thick, long and dark, was not only greasy at the roots, but was frizzing at the tips, as it always did in hot climates if she didn't use expensive conditioning treatments. Not only did her budget not run to expensive 25ml sachets anymore, but the showers in the hostel she'd stayed in last night had made her want to get in and out as fast as possible. She pulled her hair back into a high ponytail and then shoved a wide hairband over her roots, hoping she could achieve something akin to the look she'd sported on a double page spread a few weeks ago. She wrinkled her nose up as she appraised the effect. It would have to do.

She kicked her sweat-stained flip flops off. The floor was cool beneath her hot feet. And damp, she thought, resolving not to look any closer at that dark patch in the corner; mould always made her gag. She pulled her top and jeans off hurriedly, shoving them into a plastic bag in her suitcase. Standing in just her underwear, Callie was pleased to see how much her arms and face had already tanned in the Australian sun. At least one good thing had come out of this trip.

Her face was very shiny though, and the dark circles under her eyes, although she could put them down to jet lag, had become part of her features over the past few months. Still, at least they complimented the large bruises around her waist. She winced slightly as she touched one.

There were footsteps down the corridor outside. Callie tensed instinctively, and then reminded herself that there was no reason to be so nervous here. It was probably just one of Stuart's house-mates, of which there seemed to be a dozen. They were no doubt on their way to their bedroom to listen to some sort of loud angsty music and play air-guitar, like her step-brother, Pete, used to do.

The footsteps stopped and the handle of the door started turning. The person outside jiggled the door a few times and then must have leaned his whole weight up against it, as the door gave way and the suitcase shot across the floor. Callie could feel the colour rising up on her cheeks as a young man stepped in. He looked very like Stuart, though younger and less polished. When she reflected on the incident later, Callie could at least comfort herself with the thought that he had looked as embarrassed, if not more, than her.

As it was, Callie yelped in horror, grabbed a towel and threw it over herself.

"Oh God!" the man reacted, his jaw dropping. "I'm really really sorry!"

He backed out and thumped the door shut behind him. Callie was left staring at the door, not sure whether to laugh or cry. She did a bit of the latter, alone in the bathroom, before regaining some of her composure. Her interest in her outfit had waned slightly, though she still tried on a few choice items before deciding that her tan needed a bit more work before she could pull of the white dress, and instead plumping for a khaki coloured shirt dress and a fresh pair of flip-flops, from her best friend Ade Lucas's new range. She lightly dusted some powder over her face and slicked on a bit of mascara and lipstick. She'd do, she supposed.

She trailed her suitcase back out into the living room, where the intruder was now sitting, watching TV, accompanied by a rather scruffy looking white dog. As she walked into the room, he looked round.

"Look, I am really sorry about before," he began apologising again. "I had no idea you were in there…"

"It's fine," Callie interrupted him, faking a calmness that she wasn't feeling right now. "It happens all the time," she added airily.

The guy raised his eyebrows curiously. "Really?"

Callie had to admit defeat. "No." She shook her head, blushing again slightly as she was caught out. "In fact, it's never happened before." Even backstage at big shows, Callie was always incredibly fussy about her privacy; luckily, she was, by now, a pretty big name and most people put up with a bit of a diva-ish attitude.

The guy grinned. "First time for everything. That's the first time I've walked in on a girl before, so I guess we're quits." He turned his attention back to the TV, leaving Callie standing, looking around her. It took a few minutes for him to realise she was still there. "Oh, sit down." He hastily shifted up on the sofa, being careful not to spill his bottle of beer. He shoved the dog onto the floor. "Go on, Bob, get down." He gestured to the empty seat next to him. "Have a beer too, there's one in the fridge."

Callie sat down gingerly, aware of the white dog hairs instantly sticking to her crisp dress. "I don't drink," she replied. She focussed her attention on the screen. Aussie rules football… she recognised it from the nights she'd got in really late as a teenager, half-drunk and frozen to the bone in her favourite clubbing gear. Pete and his mates would still be up, watching sports like this on the TV, giving her and whichever friend of hers was staying over that night only the briefest of glances before a glare from Pete would direct their attention back to the game. Only on the very odd occasion that it was only Pete and his closest friend Mike was she ever invited to join them, so she had only a scant knowledge of the game. Still, she knew a little.

"Who's winning?" she asked now, as the game cut to a break.

The guy pulled a face. "The Lions." He sighed. He glanced at her. "You know Aussie rules?"

"A bit." Callie shrugged. "Not a whole lot." She looked at the array of crisps on the table. "Are you going to eat all that by yourself?"

"Nah." The guy shook his head. "The others will be here soon. I guess Toadie's just finishing up at the office, and I suppose Stuart's around somewhere… there you are!"

Stuart had come in. He looked at Callie, grinning. "You into footie then?"

"Not hugely." Callie shook her head.

"How's it going?" Stuart walked round the back of the sofa and flopped into a chair on the other side.

"Not too good." The other guy shook his head as he took a swig of beer. "Not the best match ever either."

"This is Ned by the way," Stuart said, his mouth full of crisps. "My kid brother. Ned, Callie."

"We've met." Ned smiled at her. Callie couldn't help smiling back.


	5. Chapter 5

Callie made her excuses at six-fifty-five.

"You'll miss the end of the game!" Toadie, a thick-set guy with a goatee beard who looked the most unlikely lawyer Callie had ever seen, protested.

"You'll have to fill me in on it then, won't you?" Callie returned, brushing dog hair off of her dress. The game was nearly over anyway, and she could pretty much guess that the Lions had walked away with it. They were deluding themselves if they thought otherwise.

Stuart followed her to the door.

"Um, thanks for letting me get changed here." Callie smiled at him, unsure what to say. Being tongue-tied wasn't what she was known for. "It was really nice of you."

"That's cool, it was no hassle," Stuart insisted. "Well, I'll be seeing you around then, right? So we can fill you in on the end of the game?"

Callie hesitated before nodding. "Yeah, I guess. You better get back to the game," she added, when the silence that followed became too uncomfortable. "I'll see you." She trundled the suitcases back outside again, glad to see that at least some of the heat had gone out of the day. It was still light outside, and there were some people outside, kids or teenagers, sitting on the kerb. Callie couldn't help thinking was a nice safe street it was, how much she'd have liked to have grown up here. She eyed the Bishop house with an element of fear though; she had to try and make this evening better than this afternoon. She couldn't understand it; she'd come here with the intention of meeting her father, nothing more. He wasn't here, by rights she should be half-way home by now. Wherever home was. She pushed that thought out of her mind. All she knew was that she really wanted to get to know what was left of her family better.

* * *

Callie ate her dinner hesitantly. It wasn't that it wasn't nice; it was lovely, vegetarian lasagne. One of her favourites. She was about to ask if David had liked it too, then stopped herself. She had to stop making connections with him like this. She looked around the table guiltily, as though everyone could hear her thoughts. They looked a nice bunch of people. Sky was eating her own dinner as delicately as she was, whilst Joe was wolfing his down. The newcomers were apparently called Lou, a silver-haired genial looking character, who had made her feel welcome from the moment she'd stepped through the door, and Connor, Serena's boyfriend. Callie had felt ashamed to even be sitting down to eat dinner with him, but he barely spoke anyway. She had never imagined a reunion with her Australian family being quite like this.

Harold looked across at her again, like he'd been doing all evening. She wished he'd stop, it was making her uncomfortable. Callie, who had spent the last three years of her life being watched, was finally feeling uncomfortable. She shifted weight in her seat awkwardly and crossed and recrossed her legs.

"Ooo!" Joe winced as her foot made contact with his.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Callie felt her face burn up instantly. She looked under the table, moving the tablecloth, as if that would help. "I really am! I'm so clumsy sometimes!" As if to prove her point, she promptly dropped her fork on the floor and knocked her glass of water over. "Oh my God!" She leapt backwards, toppling the chair over.

There was a dead silence. Then Lou started laughing, a deep laugh. Joe fought back laughter for a few moments, before succumbing to it. Callie could feel her face going redder and redder.

"I…" she stuttered, finding it hard to find the words. Words had never been her strong point; Ade had said for ages that she was a pretty face until she opened her mouth and started putting her foot in it. And since she'd been with Ed she'd found it harder and harder to say the right thing. She backed away from the table now towards the door. The laughter dried up.

"Callie?" Sky frowned, standing up. She glared at her dad to stop grinning.

"I really better get going," Callie managed to get out. "Thanks for dinner, it was lovely. Bye." She backed out the door and then fled down the drive. The sun had set while she was inside and the street was far cooler than earlier, almost cold. She shuddered in her thin shirt dress and wished she'd brought a jumper with her. Then she remembered all her stuff was still at the Bishops. She felt her heart sink as she realised she'd have to go back and get it all at some stage. How could she walk back in there after running out on them? Her panic indoors had subsided now and she wondered why she'd run. Deep down she'd known of course; the last time she'd spilt anything like that she'd had a far worse reaction than being laughed at. Feeling uncomfortable was nothing new, but she'd vowed she'd never let it happen again when she left England. How had she fallen back into this again?

She looked around the street. It was lovely, the epitome of calm and quiet. She wanted to stay, she wanted to get to know them all properly. Sky was a nice girl, she had great fashion sense and seemed totally sorted. She could be like the sister she'd never had. Callie knew she shouldn't be feeling like this; she couldn't expect this new family to take her in like this. They knew nothing about her, and she wasn't about to tell them anything. This had been a stupid idea made in desperation five nights ago. Why couldn't she just have run to her mum's or to Ade's rather than the other side of the world? Ed wasn't _that_ dangerous.

"Callie!" Sky called to her from the top of the drive, making Callie jump. The other girl came down the drive towards her. She was still frowning. "What's wrong? Did we do something wrong?" She sounded hurt and worried, like they'd done something awful to scare her away. Like they'd injured some animal. Ade had always said she looked like a deer in headlights.

"You? No!" Callie shook her head hurriedly. "No, nothing's wrong. I just felt… look, I shouldn't be here, I should really get going."

"You can't," Sky insisted, now looking angry. "You can't just go."

Callie felt the little bit of stubbornness she had left in her kick up a fuss at being ordered around by some teenaged girl. "I think you'll find I can," she retorted.

"You can't!" Sky snapped back. "Who do you think you are?"

Callie blinked twice. "I'm sorry?"

"You heard me," Sky challenged her. "What right do you have to come here, upsetting my family all over again? You can't just walk off now! Granddad's not over the plane crash yet, and then you waltz in changing history! And now you're what, bored? You can't just do that!"

Callie hadn't thought of it like that. For the first time she recognised that she was just a random stranger to these people, an anomaly, something that didn't fit. Even though she hadn't known them all individually, she'd known of them, had known that she had a grandfather and father and relations. She hadn't even existed in their dreams until this afternoon.

Sky eventually broke the silence, much more softly. Callie wished she'd shout at her again; the pain and heartbreak was so much more evident in her quieter voice.

"So stay," Sky said, almost pleading with her. And Callie got the impression that Sky never pleaded. When she didn't reply, the blonde girl's voice rose up another pitch. "Come inside, please."

Callie hesitated before answering. "I'll stay, but I won't come back in tonight," she said finally, striking a compromise both with Sky and between her own head and heart. Even looking at the house at the moment made her want to run straight back to the airport and get on the first plane home, but then, she reasoned, she'd done exactly that to get here. And she really did want to get to know these people. But not tonight.

"But all your stuff's still inside," Sky reminded her. "And where are you going to stay?"

"I've booked a bed and breakfast," Callie replied. "And I can pick it all up tomorrow." She nodded emphatically. "That's what I'll do."

Sky eyed the other girl up for a few moments before nodding in return. "Okay. Let me go and get your holdall and we'll go the Scarlet Bar for a bit."

Callie started anxiously. "What?"

"You can't go and sit in a bed and breakfast by yourself at nine o clock at night," Sky said decisively. "So we'll go and have a game of pool or something. Okay?" Before Callie could say anything, Sky added, "Just us."

Callie finally nodded her consent, at least a little glad that she wasn't to be entirely alone all evening.


	6. Chapter 6

On the silent walk from Ramsay Street to the Lassiters Complex, Callie searched for things to say. Eventually she chose what she knew most about.

"I like your skirt," she said, aware how shallow she sounded.

Sky glanced down, as if she hadn't even noticed it. "Oh. Thanks. It's just some old thing. Nice… shoes."

Callie smiled. "Thanks. My friend designed them." As soon as she said it, she knew it was a mistake. The first rule of running away to the other side of the world: don't mention your real life.

"Your friend's a designer?" Sky looked at her suddenly.

Callie thought quickly, knowing she had to try and back track out of this one. "Um, just the odd thing here and there, you know, nothing major." She shrugged it off and made a mental note to attempt to rip the label out of her flip flops later. Ade would understand about her ruining his creation.

"They're pretty cool," Sky continued. "Does she make a living out of it?"

"He," Callie corrected her. "Um, just a bit of money here and there." Enough for a penthouse apartment in Kensington and a country hideaway.

"So would I have heard of him?" Sky asked. "I like quirky designers."

Callie was glad they'd reached the bar. She shook her head. "Nah, I doubt it. Um, is this it?"

They went in and Callie was surprised how many people Sky knew. It felt strange for a second, like she was back home and walking into a bar with one of her colleagues. She kept expecting people to recognise her too.

"Callie!" she jumped as someone greeted her. To her surprise, she broke into a smile when she saw it was Stuart.

"Hey," she tried to act cool, even though she could feel colour rising up her shoulders and neck.

"You know each other?" Sky looked between them, frowning.

"Um, sort of." Callie shrugged.

"I'll get us some drinks," Sky offered. "What are you having?"

"Um, just some water please," Callie replied.

"Sure." Sky nodded, not even questioning her request. "Stu?"

"I'm good." Stuart shook his head, gesturing towards his beer in his hand. "So," he turned back to Callie. "You leave to have dinner with Harold, you come down here with Sky… what family are you visiting exactly?"

Callie could sense he was teasing her from the twinkle in his eye, but she couldn't help rebelling against his questions. She had nothing to be ashamed of, there was nothing wrong in what she was or what she meant. But she wasn't sure if the Bishops felt like that. Maybe she should keep it under wraps a little longer.

"I'm sort of related to Sky," Callie said eventually. "Through her dad."

"Oh right." Stuart seemed to accept that. Callie hoped she could get Sky on her own to explain the minor fib before Stuart said anything to her. She didn't want her new family to think she was an out and out liar as well as an illegitimate love child of their deeply mourned relative.

"So you'll be staying around then?" Stuart asked now.

"Hopefully." Callie nodded, and found herself believing that. What had she got to lose by staying around? She'd already blown her career and her life back home. And if this fell through, she'd just move on, find another home. It wasn't like the old one was so great anyway.


	7. Chapter 7

"Callie, we're just wondering where you are. It's Lucy, from the office? Jonathan's starting to get really mad, will you please call in and say where you are? We've got a big photo shoot tomorrow, it's big money stuff. We need you here, not on another planet or anywhere but within a ten mile radius of your flat. Okay? Give me a call as soon as you get this."

* * *

"Callie, darling, it's me, Ade. Where are you? Everyone's up in arms about it at the office, why haven't you turned up for work today? Look, if you want to talk you know where I am. And if… if there's anything _wrong_ you will call, right? I'm free all day, I'll keep my mobile with me. Love you honey, call me back."

* * *

"Callie, where are you? Look, I'm sorry, babe, I didn't mean to do that, you know that. I'm really really sorry. If you come home tonight we can sort this out. I've called everyone we know and no one's seen you all day. You can't run off like this all the time, I'm getting a bit sick of it. Call me when you get this."

* * *

"Callie, it's your mum. Listen, Ed's been calling here all day trying to get hold of you, and I've had Ade on the phone for the last twenty minutes. Where are you? If you're in any trouble you know we'll come and get you. I'm really worried about you. Call me as soon as you get this."

* * *

Callie deleted the pile of voice messages that were on her phone when she switched it on the next morning. She'd slept badly on the lumpy mattress at the bed and breakfast, and even when she did occasionally drop off to sleep, her dreams terrified her and made her wish she was awake. The bags under her eyes had got bigger yet again.

As soon as she heard Ade's voice, Callie wanted to phone her best friend. She glanced at her watch. It would be early evening in London, he no doubt had some fancy party to be going to. But he had said phone him at any time. She hesitated before dialling his number which she knew by heart, and waiting for him to answer.

"Callie!" He sounded both surprised and delighted. In the background she could hear a lot of people talking and laughing and the clink of champagne glasses. The line crackled as Ade moved and she heard a door shut behind him.

"Callie, honey, how are you?" Ade asked when the noise had died down.

Callie bit her lip. "I'm… okay."

"Where are you?" Ade fired questions at her. "Do you need me to come and get you?"

"No, I…" Callie hesitated before replying. "I'm okay, Ade, I'm… in Australia."

There was a long silence. Then Ade spoke again. "You're where?"

"Listen, you know I said that my real dad lived in Australia and that one day I wanted to go and meet him?" She was aware she was babbling, but she continued anyway. "Well, I did it. A bit late as it turns out, but I'm here, I'm…"

"Slow down!" Ade interrupted her. "You're in Australia?"

"Yes!" Callie laughed. "And it's lovely."

"And what was that about your dad, about…?"

"My dad died a few weeks ago," Callie explained. "He… he was in a plane crash. His wife and daughter died too. But his dad's still alive and his niece…my cousin I guess." She was aware she was speaking too fast, and she deliberately took a deep breath to try and calm herself.

Ade took the opportunity to say something. "Cal, are you crazy?" he said eventually.

Callie was surprised. "What?"

"You've just left everything in a huge mess back here!" Ade's voice rose and then fell again. Clearly he wasn't alone in this room. "You had work lined up, Callie! Big bucks work! I've bumped into Jonathan God knows how many times already this evening, and he does not look happy!"

"It was only a photoshoot and a commercial," Callie replied, secretly feeling pretty guilty. "It can be rescheduled, it's for next summer anyway!"

"You know that's not how it works though," Ade reminded her. "And you said you'd do some work for me, model a few of my designs for the show next week? It's a really big thing, Cal, I need to try and break into the US market."

Callie remembered and felt even worse. She'd always supported Ade in his every design, ever since he'd turned from model to designer. She'd been there for his first show, a small affair with only a few junior agents even vaguely interested, and she'd been there at London Fashion Week two years ago when his designs had almost caused a stampede. She'd seen him sell his first collection to a high street store, and bought seventy copies of the magazine featuring his first celebrity wedding dress. She'd promised him she'd help him out at this meeting months ago, he hadn't even had to ask twice.

"I know," she murmured into the speaker.

"So you'll be back in time then?" Ade sounded hopeful. "You can always go back again afterwards, Cal, straight after the show if you like."

"Is there no one else?" Callie asked, hating herself even as she said it. "Can't Alissa or someone do it?" Alissa was Ade's flat mate, a tall and imposing raven-haired beauty. Whilst Callie had always traded on her smile and personality to get her by, Alissa only had to walk into a room for people to stop talking.

"Alissa's way too tall!" Ade replied. "And her feet are too big! I made this stuff for you, Cal, you promised you'd do it."

"I know, and I'm really sorry!" Callie started to protest and then she heard beeping. "What's that?"

"My battery's dying," Ade explained. "Look, I'll have to go, I'm missing valuable networking time as it is." Another stab of guilt. "I'll call you later, okay? You better ring that jobsworth Lucy, actually, explain where you've got to. And your mum. And you might want to check the internet while you're about it."

"The internet?" Callie frowned. "Why? Ade, why would I want to check the internet? Ade?" But the line was dead. Callie felt a sense of dread flow through her. She shivered in her thin silk nightdress and told herself not to be stupid and to think rationally. The internet. Where would she get on the internet here? If Ade had suggested she look it must be important.

She showered quickly, giving her hair the cursory wash and bundling it into a messy and loose bun. She didn't like the look of the hairdryer in the room; the wire was tattered and frayed. She pulled on a slightly flared mini skirt she'd bought in Greece two years ago and a plain white t shirt. It made her look younger than she was, like a girl on holiday without a care in the world. She wished it was true.

Picking up her phone again, she called Lucy's extension number at the office. No doubt everyone would be at the same party Ade was at, supping champagne and talking about the next big thing to hit the catwalk. If she'd been there, someone (probably Jonathan) would have nudged her before pointing to an impossibly thin skeleton of a girl with some sort of edgy bob cut.

"You should watch her," he'd say, as the girl moved effortlessly from group to group, shepherded by a crowd of men. "She's your competition. We can't rest on our laurels, Callie, can we?"

The phone rang. Callie jumped as it was answered unexpectedly.

"Hello?" Lucy sounded equally as alarmed. Callie imagined the blonde girl sitting at her desk, wearing the glasses she liked to think made her look intelligent and important, but really dwarfed her delicate bone structure. Lucy wanted to be a model more than anything, you could see it in her eyes. She bought outlandish clothes and pranced around the office in stacked heels, trying to get Jonathan to notice her potential talent. But he'd never see past her height. Maybe that was what made her such an embittered twenty-five year old.

Callie faked breeziness. "Lucy, hi, it's Callie."

"Callie?" Lucy yelped. "Um, well, where are you? Jonathan's not in at the moment, he's…"

"At a party, I know." Callie couldn't help teasing the girl, who was no doubt gagging to be at that very same party. "I only just got your message, I'm really sorry I couldn't make the shoot, only I've had to go away for a bit."

"What? Where? For how long?" Callie could hear Lucy dislodging piles of papers on the desk, no doubt looking for book all Callie's appointments were written down in. "You've got loads coming up, though, shows and shoots and commercials and you're supposed to be meeting with a new client next week…"

"Yeah, is there any chance we can reschedule?" Callie asked, sounding much more confident than she felt. She'd never have dared take these liberties if it were Jonathan on the other end.

"I… where are you?" Lucy sounded outraged. "Jonathan won't like this, you know, you can't just wander off, Callie! You should have booked some time off, organised this all properly. You've got a week off in May, couldn't you have waited until then?"

Callie could barely believe what Lucy was saying. May was over five months away! And she knew Jonathan would have filled her week off with interviews and magazine cover shoots by then. "It was unavoidable," she said carelessly. "Something just… came up."

"Things can't just come up!" Lucy sounded like she was having a coronary. "Callie, you can't just take holidays when you like." There was the sound of fast breathing as Lucy hyperventilated. Then a pause. And then, "Look, where are you? You've only missed one appointment so far, we passed you off as sick. When do you think you can get back? Tomorrow? You've got a shoot at three and a show at nine."

"I won't be back tomorrow," Callie replied firmly. That was an impossibility even if she wanted to make the effort and try.

"Okay," Lucy was no doubt drawing a line through those appointments, making a note on a sticky label to ring those clients and photographers. "How about the day after? That's an easy day to come back to, just a meeting with a potential client."

"No, not then either." Callie grimaced as she thought about that. All they did was look her up and down, assess her vital statistics and then show her the door.

"Well, when?" Lucy sounded annoyed, and Callie could half see her point. Jonathan wouldn't have been easy to be around for the past couple of days when his star client had gone missing.

"I might be a while," Callie admitted. "There's a… family crisis."

"I phoned your mother yesterday and she didn't say anything about it," Lucy sounded dubious.

"On my dad's side," Callie added hastily, knowing she'd gained a victory there.

"Oh," Lucy was clearly wrongfooted. "Well, where are you? Maybe we can rearrange some stuff, get it nearer to there."

Callie nearly dropped the phone in alarm. "Erm, I'm afraid you're breaking up, Lucy," she said. "Yeah, can't hear a word you're saying. It's going to…" She hung up and dropped the phone like it was on fire. Almost immediately it rang back, Lucy clearly having found the redial button finally after six months of hunting. Callie let it ring as she nipped back into the bathroom to use the small mirror. She shoved all her stuff back into her suitcase and, out of force of habit, made the bed. Having left the room practically as she'd found it when she came in last night, she headed downstairs to settle the bill.


	8. Chapter 8

Outside, even though it was still only early, the sun was already beating down on her. Callie took a walk along the road to a group of shops. They weren't much to write home about, jut a convenience store, a newsagents, a Chinese take-away and a café… An internet café. Callie nearly broke the door in her eagerness to get in. She blushed as the few techie geeks in there looked up anxiously from their screens.

She settled herself down at a terminal, and ordered some coffee. She wasn't entirely sure what Ade had meant by her checking the internet. Maybe he meant her e-mail account; she could imagine she'd have a few messages to sort through.

She wasn't wrong; there were three from Ade alone, as well as two from her mum and one from her step-brother Pete:

_Hey Callie, where are you? I'm not pressurising you (I'm sure you've got enough of those type of e-mails already), I'm just a bit worried. Your mum's doing her nut. And I know it's not really your fault, but we did have Ed come round last night and he wasn't exactly very nice… Alice was a bit shaken afterwards to be honest. Anyway, I'm only writing this cos I'm concerned about you. And to let you know that Alice is going to nip down to the yard at the weekend and see how Caramel is, if you're not back that is. E-mail me back when you get this… or at least call your mum._

Callie hurriedly typed a message back. It was nice of Pete's wife to do that for her; God knew that Ed wouldn't even think of Callie's beloved chestnut mare. The livery yard she had her at would feed her and groom her and stuff, but Caramel needed so much more attention than that. Alice would at least take her out for a bit of a walk and trot, even if she wouldn't do much else. It was the first time Callie had felt homesick since coming to Australia; Caramel was such a sweet horse. Not that Callie ever got much time to see her.

There were sixteen e-mails from Ed. Callie ignored them, not wanting to hear his fluctuating attitude towards her this early in the morning. There was nothing that amazing in any of the e-mails she had. So what was Ade talking about?

Not really sure what to expect, Callie typed her name into a search engine. She pulled a face as she entered the characters that made up the name the world recognised, the name she'd gradually come to despise. Hitting send, she sipped her coffee as she waited for the results to show up. Almost instantly, the results came up. Instead of the usual few websites that she expected, mainly involving doctored photographs of her, as well as her official website, she found that she was getting up news results. She clicked on one dubiously, and found herself staring open mouthed at the screen.

_London-based model, Kayley Tyler, has been reported as missing by her partner, the photographer, Ed Bailey. Ms. Tyler, who has fronted campaigns for brands such as Pure cosmetics and Crystalise perfume, was last seen leaving her London flat, where she lives with Mr Bailey, on Monday night. Since then, nothing has been heard from her. Mr Bailey, who has photographed some of the world's leading models, reported her disappearance to the police on Tuesday. The police say that they are not treating it as suspicious at the present time._

Callie checked the date. The article had been written yesterday. She went back to the main page and clicked on another link. Another similar article came up, along with a photo of her and Ed at an awards ceremony last month. She remembered that striking purple dress, with the shoestring straps. She'd had to change her choice of outfit at the last minute from a far more revealing red dress; the purple one had covered the bruising up a bit better.

Every link took her to a similar article, chronicling her disappearance. She looked at them all, wallowing in her own fame, the interest everyone was taking in her. For an instant it made her feel that old buzz, the excitement that she was the centre of the world for some people. She looked at a photo of herself on the internet for a long time. It was a spread she'd done for a lads' mag, when she was voted third sexiest female in the world last year, only beaten by Keira Knightley and Angelina Jolie. It had been Jonathan's idea for her to do a shoot especially for it.

"You need to branch out a bit more, Callie," he'd said, as they stood in the freezing cold warehouse. "Reach to new markets. You're building quite a fan base. Don't ruin it now."

The picture wasn't the best she'd ever taken. She could remember Ade's reaction to it.

"It's…um… it's a good photo," he'd lied initially, as she showed him the page. "Good lighting. I'm not overkeen on the bikini, who designed it?"

"Some bloke." Callie shrugged, not interested in that. The white bikini had been far too large and they'd had to use sticky tape to fix it to her properly, which had hurt when they'd pulled it off. "Seriously, do you think it's a good photo?"

Ade had hesitated, and Callie had felt the criticism coming.

"It's a well-taken photo," he'd said diplomatically. "And you look pretty good, Cal."

"But?"

"Don't you think you're looking a bit… well, thin?"

Looking at the photo now, Callie knew she had looked thin then. Her ribs were jutting out and her cheeks, which had always been annoyingly round, had finally achieved some of the angularity that came to Alyssa so easily. It didn't suit her; part of Callie's appeal as a model had always been that she was practically the girl next door, "an English rose", Jonathan had always sold her as. She was amazed the photo had had such a good reception at the time, even if it was a lads' mag and she was half-naked.

Reading the caption beneath the photo, Callie had to smile: "Kayley's dramatic loss of weight in the last year has sparked fears that she could be suffering from an eating disorder." Nothing as simple as that for her.

She'd spent too long looking at herself. Callie logged out of the computer and paid her bill, before heading back out into the oppressive heat. She wasn't entirely sure how to spend the day. Without really knowing why, Callie found herself walking towards the bus stop where she knew she could get a bus to Ramsay Street.


	9. Chapter 9

"We meet again!" Callie jumped as someone came up behind her. Stuart frowned at her. "Still carrying your luggage around?"

"Yeah," Callie tried to think up an excuse. "I… um…"

"Like having your stuff around you?" Stuart suggested.

"Yeah, something like that," Callie agreed. "Aren't you at work?"

"Day off," Stuart replied. He was dressed in a red t shirt and cream shorts. He looked pretty hot. Without even asking, he took her suitcase off of her and began pulling it along. "So you going to spend the day with Sky then?"

"Um, I don't know really." Callie shrugged. "No plans." She still felt slightly shell-shocked from everything she'd seen on the internet; she wasn't sure she'd stand up to Sky's questioning right now. But she wasn't entirely sure what else she could do.

"I'm heading home for some lunch, if you fancy come," Stuart offered easily. "It won't be anything special, no doubt we have nothing left in the fridge but if you want it…?"

Callie paused before nodding. "Sure. That would be nice."

Callie had liked the guys' untidy and downright messy house from the moment she'd stepped in yesterday. It felt so much more homely than her flat back in London, where nothing was ever out of place. Even the smell of the dog hadn't put her off.

"You're not vegetarian are you?" Stuart checked, as he pulled out a couple of beef burgers from the freezer.

"Oh God no!" Callie shook her head hastily. "I'm not really a fussy eater at all. Eat anything at any time, that's me." She was aware she was being overly bright, and that Ade would have instantly realised she was covering something up. For the first time, she was glad that he wasn't here.

Stuart grinned. "Great. You'll fit in around here then. As you can tell, we have a… ahem… liberal approach to food." He patted his stomach tellingly.

"You're not too bad," Callie replied. "It's all that physical work you must do for the police. It must be great."

"It's tough." Stuart nodded. "Heart-breaking sometimes. Like when people you know get involved."

Callie didn't pry any further as Stuart's face lost its happy shine. She thought around for a safe topic, something light and fluffy and that wouldn't reveal her…

"So what do you do back at home?"

The million dollar question. Callie's mind raced over any number of possibilities. The one thing she'd learnt about lies was that they always worked much better if there was an element of truth in them. No one would ever believe she was a builder or a rocket scientist. It needed to be something she could talk about…

"I work at some stables," she said finally, as the image of Caramel popped into her head. She bit her lip anxiously for a second while she waited to see if Stuart would buy the lie.

"Really?" he sounded interested. "What kind of stables?"

"Racing." Callie bit her lip again. She was going to hell.

"Oh right," Stuart nodded. "Where I come from, up in Oakie, horses are the lifeblood of the place. So do you ride them or… actually, scratch that," he laughed, taking in her six foot frame. "Stupid question."

Callie smiled. "I'd have liked to," she said, enjoying this new character she'd created around herself. "But it wasn't to be."

"So you just work around the yard then?" Stuart asked.

"Yeah, just doing general horse stuff," Callie agreed. "Those burgers smell nice," she interrupted him just as he was about to press her further. "I'm starving."

Pushing her plate away, Callie sat back in the chair and stretched. "That was delicious. I'm absolutely stuffed!"

Stuart grinned and followed suit. "So you planning on staying around here long then?" he asked.

Callie shrugged. "Not sure. I'm just taking some time out at the moment, considering all my options."

Stuart nodded. "So you might move out here permanently?"

"Perhaps." Callie was determined not to incriminate herself. "It's all just a bit up in the air at the moment." She smiled, hoping that it would be a sufficient enough answer for him. Typical model, she berated herself. Using your looks and charm to try and cover up for lies and deceit. No wonder they had a bad reputation as being a bit shallow and bitchy.

"So where are staying?" Stuart asked.

Callie shrugged, honest for once. "Nowhere in particular. The bed and breakfast is fully booked for tonight, so I guess I'll have to look around." She made a mental note to check her bank balance. For the sake of security, she was relying on her own personal bank account only for this trip; all her big money pay checks went into the shared bank account with Ed and the last thing she wanted was for him to discover where she was. Her own bank account was small in comparison, only a few thousand in, and she was making fast headway through that what with the plane tickets and the hotel rooms. She'd have to rethink it all pretty soon, or get a job. That is, if she planned on staying here much longer.

"So how are you and Sky related exactly?" Stuart asked curiously. "She was vague about it last night. So were you."

"Oh, you know, it's all a bit tenuous, a bit sort of third cousin four times removed and then replaced kind of thing," Callie said, deliberately remaining vague. The second rule of lying: it's not lying if you don't make it specific.

"Yeah, you don't look much like her," Stuart agreed. "So did you know each other before you came here?"

Callie shook her head. The truth! At last. "No, I only just found out we were related at all. My granddad's been doing a family tree," she elaborated. It wasn't entirely untrue; it was actually her step-father, Andrew, who had started doing a family tree and it was that that had triggered her desire to meet her natural father. But a family tree had been involved.

"Oh cool," Stuart replied. "Yeah, my dad started one of those but gave up… it isn't like us Parker boys have anything linking us to anyone great." He grinned. "None of us were very supportive anyway, to be honest. Felt a bit sorry for the old bloke."

"So you and Ned live down here now?" Callie was glad for the opportunity to shift the focus. "What made you both decide to move down here?"

"Oh, Ned's only just come down," Stuart replied. "I moved down, what four years ago? I knew a bloke who lived here, my older brother's best friend. He worked as a mechanic, he said he could give me a job. And I've just sort of… stayed." He shrugged. "It's a nice neighbourhood. Ned… I don't really know why Ned's here!" He laughed.

Callie listened as Stuart told her a number of tales from his time in Ramsay Street. She laughed out loud when he told her about some of Toadie's more hare-brained schemes. Without even realising it, she passed an hour listening to some of the more outlandish happenings in the deceptively quiet street.

Ned wandered in. He looked between the two of them, a wry smile on his face. "Sorry, am I interrupting something here?"

Callie practically jumped, and Stuart straightened up.

"No, don't be stupid," he reprimanded his younger brother. "Me and Callie were just having lunch."

"At three in the afternoon?" Ned raised his eyebrows. "Some lunch." He headed to the fridge and got a bottle of water out. "I'm going over to Paul's house to do the lawn."

Stuart raised his eyebrows pointedly at Callie. He'd just been filling her in on the unusual love triangle involving Ned, Izzy Hoyland and Elle Robinson. Callie had to stifle a giggle.

Ned looked at them both, frowning. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing." Stuart shook his head innocently. Callie bit the inside of her lip firmly and tried to look angelic. Ned left, still looking at them suspiciously. Callie could barely hold her giggles until he'd gone out the front door.

I'd feel sorry for him, apart from the fact that Elle's way hot. Stuart sighed, grinning. "I mean, Izzy, yeah, but she's way out of his league. And then he has Elle _throwing_ herself at him. That boy…"

Callie smiled and looked at her watch. "I really should get going," she said.

Where?"

"Here and there." Callie shrugged. "I…" Before she could finish her phone vibrated in her bag, as it had been doing all day. She pulled it out. It was the middle of the night back home, who would even have bothered…? She grimaced as she saw the name.

"Not someone you want to talk to?" Stuart guessed from her face.

Callie hesitated before cancelling Ed's call. "It's this guy." She shrugged. "He keeps ringing me, won't let it go. You know." She dropped her phone carelessly back into her bag. She knew she'd have to speak to Ed eventually, but not here, not in front of Stuart.

"Persistent." Stuart nodded. "Well, you can't blame a guy for trying. So there, um, isn't anyone back home?"

Callie thought hard before answering. Did she really want to lie again? "No, there's no one," she replied.


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry I haven't updated this in months... literally. I'm trying to get back into it, I've got such high hopes for it. Anyway, in case you don't remember (and I bet you don't cause I've had to re-read), Callie is David's long-lost daughter who has come to find him, only she's too late as he's already dead. She's being very cagey about why she has come to find him now. Back at home, her family, her best friend Ade and her fiance Ed are worried about her, and have reported her missing, but Callie is avoiding Ed. She's kept her identity as the model Kayley Tyler a secret from all the people of Ramsey Street, but is beginning to forge a friendship with Stuart.**

**That's the basic summary, not written very well I'm afraid. I really will try and keep updating this, I've got more time now I'm back at uni (bizarrely!) and my enthusiasm for Doctor Who fics has died down a bit. Hope you enjoy!**

**

* * *

**"Callie!" Sky greeted her as she came out of Stuart's house. She looked down at the suitcase and frowned. "Did you…?" She gestured towards the house. 

Callie took a moment to catch her meaning. "Oh! No!" she shook her head hastily. "No… I didn't… I stayed at a bed and breakfast. I bumped into Stuart and he cooked me some lunch, no I didn't stay there!" That was all she needed.

"Oh right, cool." Sky brightened up visibly. "Well what are you doing carrying all your luggage around with you?"

Callie tried to think up a quick answer, but her brain was rebelling against all the fabrication it was being asked to perform and wouldn't produce a suitable enough story to cover her tracks. Sky got in before she'd even got the basis of a valid story.

"You do have somewhere to stay tonight, don't you?" the girl asked, looking quite concerned. "Because if you don't, there's a bed with us. Or the sofa."

Callie reacted finally. "No, it's cool," she insisted. "You looked a bit full to bursting anyway, what with your dad and Lou and Connor… there wouldn't be room for me too."

"Rubbish, of course there would!" Sky shook her head. "Dad can sleep anywhere, in the garden if he has to. And Connor… well, Connor has a bed in there." She nodded at the house Callie had just come out of. Hesitating, she added, "There's always a spare bed in my room anyway."

Callie had done the maths concerning the house. She was certain that the bed Sky was referring to had belonged to Serena. Callie felt a tingle in the bottom of her spine. She didn't want to step into some dead girl's shoes; that wasn't what she'd come here for. If David had been alive, if that plane had never gone down… she wanted to be his daughter, not a replacement for what they'd all lost.

"Honestly, it's fine," she said again, emphatically, making it clear that there was to be no more discussion. Sky looked visibly crushed for a moment, but she brightened up again quickly.

"Well, do you fancy going down to the General Store?" she asked. "Granddad and Lou own it, it's sort of the family business… we could go and grab a milkshake?"

Callie nodded. It was the least she could do.

* * *

Sky stirred her milkshake with her straw thoughtfully. The silence had been awful so far, and Callie was on tenterhooks waiting for her to say something, anything. 

"So why did you tell Stuart that we were related through my dad?" Sky asked finally. It was an obvious point.

Callie shrugged. "I'm not really sure. I guess I… I didn't know how much you'd all like it if I told him the truth."

Sky looked thoughtful. "You mean if everyone knew that you were David's daughter?"

Callie nodded. "I know it's not like he cheated on his wife or anything but still…" She tailed off, unsure where she was going. She couldn't tell Sky the real reason anyway. The real reason why she'd rather leave tomorrow and go home to Ed than admit to everyone that she was David's daughter. Ever since she'd been seventeen and become a model, she'd had to get used to people looking at her in the street. Even earlier if she was honest; her height had always drawn glances from people. But since she had been a model she'd noticed it even more. People would stop and point, or would walk past her several times, double-checking. Since she'd been in Australia she'd felt free for the first time in years. No one was even batting an eyelid at who she was, though her height was still above average. She didn't want to suddenly be stared at again as the daughter of a dead man. She wanted to be normal, for the first time in a long time. Just normal.

The silence needed breaking again. Callie supposed it was up to her this time.

"So do you have a boyfriend?" she asked. She was aware she sounded more like Sky's aunt than a cousin, but she wasn't sure what else to say. Anyway, a pretty girl like Sky would have no trouble finding herself some bloke.

Sky's face clouded over. Her eyes flickered up briefly before fixing them on the table again. Her blonde hair fell forwards. "He… he's in prison," she said finally.

Callie reeled backwards. Her family were involved with criminals; how wonderful. "Oh."

"It isn't like it sounds!" Sky protested. "Honestly. He didn't mean to do it."

"What did he do?" Callie asked.

"He's in prison for armed robbery," Sky admitted reluctantly. "But Callie, he didn't mean to do it, it was all to do with-"

"You don't need to justify it all to me," Callie insisted, shaking her head. She didn't want to hear the ins and outs. Armed robbery wasn't exactly something that you could stumble into. It wasn't like he'd not paid attention on the road and accidentally hit someone. He'd actively gained a gun and set out to hold someone up. That was serious crime.

"So do you have a boyfriend?" Sky asked. Callie felt the familiar clenching in her stomach as she tried to think up a suitable answer. It was getting increasingly difficult to remember exactly which stories she told to whom. She really should start keeping notes.

"No, no one special," she said now. That was ambiguous. It meant there could be someone, even a steady boyfriend, but she had no intention of marrying them.

"What about family?" Sky asked, and Callie recognised the glint in her eye. It was the look reporters got when they started interviewing you. Desperate for any piece of information, especially anything new and exclusive. It was a look Callie hated and it always made her uncomfortable. Even after endless sessions with PR experts, who'd coached her on what to say and how to say it, she still found it hard to remain calm under pressure. It all just made her remember the worst interview she'd ever attended, a few months ago, when the interviewer just hadn't been able to let her weight loss go. She'd come off so badly in that write-up that Jonathan had called a special meeting to "review" her professional work.

Now Sky was turned interrogator, Callie was just pleased that her cousin didn't know anything about her career or who she really was. No matter how nice she was, no one would be able to resist getting the inside story on the disappearance of Kayley Tyler.

"I've got an older step-brother," Callie replied. "He's twenty five."

"And you live with your mum and step-dad?"

"No, I've got my own place." Callie thought things through carefully. A twenty-one-year old stable hand with her own place. She doubted it. "Well, I mean I live at the stables I work at, in the grooms' quarters."

"I'd love to have my own place," Sky enthused. "I mean, I love living with Granddad and everything, but to have the freedom to do whatever you want… it must be amazing. So you didn't go to university then?"

"No." Callie shook her head. She hadn't even finished her A levels after she'd been spotted. For one thing, she was far too busy with photoshoots and meetings to hae even attempted to study too. For another, she had thought at the time that modelling would be her career for ever. And back then, she'd wanted it to be.

"I'm hoping to go to art school next year," Sky explained. "If my results are all right."

"That's cool." Callie nodded. The conversation was starting to become strained and she wanted to run for it. But where? She was starting to realise exactly how isolated she was here; she couldn't make up an excuse about having to meet someone else because… there was no one else.

Her phone rang. Callie felt her heart leap. Please be Ade, Ade would provide her with the words she needed. Or Mum. That would be even better, to speak to her mum and explain why she needed to be out here and not at home, facing up to things.

"Excuse me a minute," she apologised to Sky as she stood up and walked outside. It was only then she looked at her phone. _Shit_. She swore under her breath. She glanced around. No one was within earshot. Maybe now was as good a time as any. She answered it.

"Callie, where the hell are you?"

"Hi Ed," Callie managed to maintain her composure and her voice didn't even wobble.

"Why haven't you been answering my calls?"

Callie couldn't pretend that he didn't send chills running down her spine even down the phone. She could almost smell the alcohol on his breath from here. And it was the middle of the night in England. He'd clearly gone through the whole drinks cabinet by now. Or at least, what had been left of the drinks cabinet since he'd smashed it last week.

"I've been a bit busy," Callie explained.

"Doing what? You haven't been in to work, I've spoken to Jonathan. And you're not with Ade or your mum either. Where are you Callie?"

"I just needed a break." From him. From work. From life. It was true, she had needed a break. In the last day or so, she'd managed to eat more than she'd eaten in the last week at home. And she'd slept more, even in that awful bed. Just thinking that she was thousands of miles away from all her problems had made her relax.

"A break? To where?"

"It doesn't matter."

"You're my fiancée, of course it fucking matters! You can't just run away whenever it suits you!"

Callie grit her teeth. "I only ran away because I had to, Ed," she replied softly.

Almost instantly Ed's tone changed. Callie was never sure which version of drunk Ed she preferred: the angry violent version or the pleading whiny one. Both were unattractive.

"I know, I'm sorry, babe," he pleaded now. "You know I don't mean it really, I don't want to do that stuff to you. But Cal, honey, you know you shouldn't do such stupid things and make me angry. Look, come home, I'm not angry anymore. Come home, and we can talk about it, calmly and rationally. Callie, babe, I love you, you know I do. Come home and we can sort it all out. Please. I miss you so much."

Once upon a time that would have worked. Callie could remember all the other times he'd told her things would be different, that he was a changed man. He could never keep it up long. Callie was ashamed of how she'd always gone back for more, even when her mum and Ade and Pete all told she was insane to even think it. Now she knew all his tricks.

"I'll think about it," she said calmly, before hanging up.


	11. Chapter 11

She wasn't sure how this had happened. How had she caved in again? After all her fine words that she would be strong from now on, and independent and stick to her guns… she'd somehow ended up taking the bed that Harold and Sky had offered her. She looked at it now. The dead girl's bed. She had to get that thought out of her mind somehow, but it was hard when the whole room was so full of Serena's things. Posters and photos decorated the walls, and her dressing table was filled with all sorts of items still. There was another photo of Sky and her together, this time dressed up. Again, Callie tried to see something of herself in Serena. She was her half-sister, after all. But they couldn't have been more different if they'd tried.

It felt wrong to be here now, without Serena's knowledge. Callie knew it was silly to feel like that, but she was conscious all the time of what this all could look like from the outside. Here she was, turned up out of the blue, a ready made granddaughter for Harold, to replace the one he'd just lost. Thank God no one knew.

"Is the bed okay for you?" Sky poked her head round the door now.

Callie couldn't help feeling fond of her newly found cousin. She'd been insistent that Callie should stay, and wouldn't take no for an answer. It was nice in a way, even if it made her feel uncomfortable.

"It's fine." What else could she say, a bed was a bed.

"Good!" Sky beamed. "Then we can head out if you like. You haven't met the rest of the street yet, have you?"

Callie quailed at the thought. God only knew how many people lived in this street, but she could guess there were quite a few. She couldn't help thinking that at least one must know who she was and what she did. It was all going so well, she couldn't bare to be discovered now. One day she'd have to admit to it all, but until then…

"Actually, I'm pretty tired," she said. "Jetlag's awful. If you don't mind, I'll just have a nap."

"Oh sure!" Sky nodded. "That's great! Well, I'm just going to nip out, but Connor's in if you want anything, and Granddad will be home soon so…"

Callie heard the front door shut behind Sky and she let out a sigh. She wasn't tired in the least, she'd never felt so awake in her life. It must have been the Australian air. And she couldn't stay in this room for a moment longer, with the sister she'd never known staring down at her from all directions. She padded out into the living room.

Connor was sitting on the sofa, watching television. Callie hesitated. She didn't know what to say to him about anything. She found it strange that he was living here now; Stuart had filled her in on all the details. She couldn't understand why someone would choose to sleep on a sofa instead of in their own bed.

"Is… is it okay if I get a drink?" she asked now, hesitantly. He jumped and turned the TV off.

"What? Oh yeah, sure, Harold won't mind."

"You don't have to turn that off because of me," Callie insisted. "Do you want anything to eat or drink?"  
"No, I'm fine." There was a long pause. Callie went into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. The window looked out over the backyard. A swimming pool… nice. The weather was so hot that she was almost tempted to go swimming. Then she remembered the still healing bruises on her side and she thought better of it. No one wanted to see those. Besides, she hadn't been for a fake tan in weeks and she was sure that her skin was as pasty as could be. Swimming would have to wait.

"So you're David's daughter then?" She jumped as Connor spoke. She hadn't realised he'd followed her into the kitchen.

"Yeah." She nodded, turning to face him. Clearly someone had filled Connor in on things; she wondered how long it would take to spread further. For some reason, she instantly thought of Stuart and what she'd told him.

Connor regarded her. Callie wondered if she ought to offer to strike a pose and twirl. It felt like she was being assessed by a potential client. Finally he spoke again. "You don't look much like Serena."

Callie wanted to get out of this conversation now. She'd been afraid this would happen. No matter how hard they all tried, it was inevitable that she'd be compared with Serena. And Connor didn't want to try very hard, clearly.

"No," she agreed. "But we are only half-sisters. I take after my mum anyway, mostly." She needed to turn this conversation around. "So what brings a Belfast boy down this way?"

He shrugged. "I came. I stayed."

Callie nodded. "Right. So you live with the boys over the road don't you? Usually, I mean."

He clammed up when she said that, and mooched back over to the sofa. Callie breathed a sigh of relief, before padding out to the back patio to the sit in the sun and think. Ed's phone call had rattled her more than she'd let on even to herself. It had reminded her exactly why she was here and why she couldn't go back, which she'd all but forgotten during her afternoon with Stuart and Sky. She had to stay here; she had no other choices. If she went back to England, not only would he track her down and find her, but she was sure that Jonathan would have her on set within the hour, modelling and trying to pretend everything was fine. She was tired of pretending everything was fine. Everything was very far from fine.

* * *

Her phone rang the next morning, waking her up. She launched herself at her handbag, hoping she wouldn't wake Sky up. Then she noticed that the other girl was already up. She wondered what time it could be and glanced at the clock on the wall. Nine-thirty. She hadn't slept that late in months.

Finding her phone she checked the caller and pressed answer immediately.

"Ade!" she exclaimed, more pleased than she expected at hearing from her friend. "How are you?"

"Not bad." He sounded more than a little annoyed with her. Callie wondered what was wrong. "Callie, you need to talk to Ed."

Callie was speechless for a second. Ade of all people was telling her she needed to talk to Ed? Ade had been telling her for months, years even, that Ed was a dead-beat and she needed to get out as fast as possible.

"And before you say anything, I know that he's hurt you and everything, and you know what I think you should do. But you need to tell him." He hesitated before saying, "He was round here this morning, Cal, he was completely wasted. He wanted to know where you were and he was getting really lairy about it."

"You didn't tell him, did you?" Callie felt her heart skip a beat in fear.

"No of course I bloody didn't, I'm not an idiot!" Ade sounded offended. "But he was pretty threatening. You know I don't really care, and I won't tell him, but… well, it's not exactly a nice way to start the day. If he does it again I will call the police."

In spite of herself, Callie found herself protesting. "Oh not the police, Ade! He's not that bad!"

"After everything he's done to you, how can you say that?"

"He doesn't mean it really," Callie heard herself trotting out the old excuses. "He's always worse when he's had a drink."

"But he's always drinking," Ade reminded her.

"Not always!"

"Most of the time."

Callie found herself backed into a corner. "Well, what do you want me to do about it? I can't stop him from drinking!"

"Talk to him. Tell him it's over. Tell him to stop hassling everyone he knows to find out where you are!" Ade sounded really fed up and annoyed. "I don't care what you tell him, Callie. Just leave me out of it." The line went dead.

Callie lay back in bed. So that was Ade who'd bailed out now as well. She remembered when she used to have so many friends, models and people from the agency and friends of Ade's and even some friends she'd stayed in touch with from school. Gradually, one by one, they'd stopped calling, leaving her to sort her own life with Ed out. Ade was the only one left. And now he'd had enough too. Her best friend, the one who'd stuck by her, the one she'd been able to call anytime, day or night. The one who would come round and sort her out when Ed had had another go at her.

One time, Ed had come back from the pub late. Afterwards he'd stormed out and Callie had heard the car engine roar off the driveway. Then she'd reached for the phone and called him.

"Callie?" Ade had answered sleepily. She had been unable to speak, her lip already swelling up and her throat too choked up with sobs to let a sound out. "Callie, is that you? What's happened? What's he done to you this time?" A sob. "Right, okay, don't worry. Don't move. I'll be round, give me twenty minutes, I'll be there."

When she'd opened the door to him he'd looked at her sadly for a moment, before gathering her up in his arms. "Oh sweetheart," he said, his voice muffled in her hair. "What has he done?"

Now it seemed even Ade had had enough of her life.


End file.
